by Madoc Fox
Peering around the edge with his face nestled amongst leaves and branches, Oscar tried to see if the flight of the cat had signalled his position. He found himself staring directly towards the black hooded eyes of the head vulture less than ten yards away. Ducking quickly back behind the tree, he panicked. They were certain to have seen him for he had made eye contact; they couldn’t have missed him – could they? Sure enough an ominous chorus of screeching rose all at once from the clearing. Frozen in fear, Oscar could only listen as again his shoulder throbbed.
The six foot monstrosity stalked towards the woods, the crack of broken twigs heralding its approach. Alone and scared, Oscar held his breath as he waited to be discovered. Though every fibre of his being was screaming at him to run, he remained rooted to the spot. Pressed hard against the tree and praying not to be seen, his thoughts flashed briefly back to his life in the Institute and the numerous occasions he had hidden in a similar way: trapped and awaiting discovery, just wishing to disappear. Shaking himself, Oscar braced against the tree, listening for the approaching attack. Crack! The vulture stood now just on the other side of the tree. Sensing its prey was close by, it let forth a blood chilling caw.
Teeth clamped tight, Oscar summoned all of his courage. He sensed rather than saw the head peering around the tree to his left. Staring with terror as the vulture came fully into sight he squinted at the malevolent form, which peered right back at him with dark beady eyes. In that moment Oscar's whole body trembled with anticipation. He knew he should be sprinting away - yet something kept him stationary.
Staring directly at the creature, he felt revolted. The head was bald pink except for a few sporadic hairs, whilst the beak was deformed and dripped milky strings of fluid. Though it now stood directly in front of him, the vulture paused. Cornered, Oscar knew he had missed his chance to flee. There was no way he could escape a strike at this range. Yet bizarrely the bird just stood there, watching intently.
As if out of nowhere a stone came flying through the air behind the vulture, landing with a thud at the base of a tree over to the side. Whirling around, the great bird charged in that direction. Not believing his luck, Oscar held his position against the tree for fear that any movement might retract the scavenger’s attention. After what seemed to be an aeon, the vulture finally sloped out of sight content with the null find.
Elated yet shaken, Oscar refused to move, feeling it was better to be certain than to step out to find the winged predator hiding in wait. So he remained, reflecting on the inexplicable behaviour of the vulture. Until his attention was caught by a scrabbling noise close by in the foliage. The leaves rustled slightly before a small, furry figure emerged.
“Oscar, Oscar where are you?” Vergil hissed. “I believe they are gone now. You can come out.” The boy was perplexed, for Vergil stood but inches from him and even the cat who usually lingered in his presence did not seem to have noticed him.
“Vergil, I’m here.” Oscar called, rolling his eyes.
The rat’s head quickly turned to track the sound, staring directly at the boy, tiny eyes shifting in focus.
“Well now. That certainly is impressive.” And with a theatrical bow Vergil tipped an imaginary hat in the boy's direction. “I take my hat off to you, Sir, for such an impressive display of manipulation.”
“What! Oscar exclaimed, baffled. “What are you on about Vergil?”
“Why – you mean you don’t know? Well just take a look at yourself.”
Still confused, Oscar looked down at himself and started in surprise. Unsettling though it was, he was amazed to discover that somehow – unknowingly - he had completely camouflaged himself to blend in with the environment: a perfect mimicry of the tree he stood so firmly pinned to.
“It seems bringing you here was a wise move indeed. Even if I do say so myself. A mind in the soul world, well I knew you had potential but your manipulation is just extraordinary.” Vergil commented. “Few souls have the cognitive abilities to truly exploit the lack of boundaries Etiainheim offers, and many minds would struggle. Though I myself have mastered them over time.”
Oscar prodded himself curiously with a stiff finger encased in bark. His whole body was rigid as though literally rooted to the spot. Fungi and moss had woven their way through his hair and over his clothes, coating him as though he had been there for years as part of the plant life. So focused had he been upon the threat of the black vulture, he had failed to notice his transformation as he yearned to remain invisible. He now blended so perfectly in with the tree that he may as well have been one.
Oscar laughed as he pulled away and turned to Vergil.
“That's amazing. Though I don’t know why I didn’t just turn invisible; that would have been easier.”
“Hmm, not so much as you might think Oscar. Some rules can be bent and some broken but not all. I'm sure if I were a man of science I would be keen to discern the difference in the two, but I’m just a mere rat.” Vergil said, with a twinkle in his eye. “Now why don't you concentrate your efforts on turning back, eh?”
Looking down again, Oscar realised that Vergil had a point. Though he had managed to pull away from the tree, his body remained rigid like the trunk it had imitated. Something had to be done. Closing his eyes, Oscar focused his efforts on changing back from this dryad state. Yet after much exertion he opened them again to see little, if anything had changed. Baffled as to why it should be so much harder to undo something he was focusing on when he had done it without even knowing in the first place, Oscar prepared to redouble his efforts.
“This might take a while.” he commented to Vergil, with a sheepish grin.
Chapter 13
It took some time, but eventually Oscar had loosened up enough to convince his limbs they weren't part of a tree; thus allowing the party of three to get moving again, back in pursuit of Edmund’s Maere. Trailing bits of fungus in his wake, Oscar shook loose the remaining camouflage until only a faint green tinge remained, giving him an appearance not dissimilar to the little green sprite in the forest the previous night. Shrugging, Oscar decided it was good enough for now.
As the sun started on its slow descent to Earth the three came in sight of a town, or rather, Vergil assured them this is what it was. On first sight, all that could be seen over the horizon were great plumes of smoke and steam streaming up into the atmosphere. Stranger still were bolts of lighting shooting upwards into the sky from an as-yet-unseen source. From a distance it was quite disconcerting. The place looked positively dangerous and as they neared their destination Oscar's worry only increased. Huge coils of wire wrapped around iron pillars protruded along the skyline, each crowned with gigantic steel domes which arced and shot blue lightning from one to another. Scattered amongst them, chimneys and mechanical contraptions hissed and spat steam, timed by the opening and closing of giant valves. Governor balls whirled, pistons nodded and turbines spun; it was a visual and auditory maelstrom. Oscar had never seen anything like it, and could barely imagine such an effect as this could be achieved with the steam power and electroart of his world.
But it was not all technology, for all the while clustered within was a labyrinthine stack of houses. They wove amongst the machinery creeping higher and higher, precariously balanced and seemingly teetering on the brink of collapse. Even from a distance Oscar could see figures bustling up and down roads, ascending bridges which arched throughout the jungle of buildings, and traversing roof tops. The entire place was a hive of activity, Itse thronging throughout.
“I'm losing the scent amongst all this traffic!” Vergil said “All the emotions cloud my judgement. The positive ones are nothing more than a distraction, but the misery and pain of others, well, it hides the trail completely. I don't know how we are going to find our Maere, if indeed he is even still here. We will just have to be vigilant and hope we come across him sooner or later”.
Approaching the town across a southerly bridge, Oscar was further awed by the spectacular site the Etiainheim town thoroughfare presented
him with. Although the scene was occasionally interspersed with the simple orbs he had become so familiar with, it was the more complex beings that now caught his attention. The sheer vibrancy of all the humans souls - each assimilating a different form and hinting at the true character of the owner - was surreal. Many of them had adopted animal-like or humanoid forms, yet few resembled anything like that which existed in the physical realm. A yellow Bassett hound in a blended tartan-tweed jacket trotted by on Oscar’s left, whilst on his right a giant, mechanically driven grasshopper stalked menacingly past, causing Oscar to dive promptly out of the way. From a distance Oscar even witnessed a jewelled fur coat with pearl necklace and shoes walk by in synchronised motion. They were a complete set, united in movement as though a person wearing them had simply turned invisible. It was bizarre to say the least and the boy stood with his mouth agape as he watched the circus of souls milling all around. It was only after Vergil tugged at his leg that the boy moved on, though his mouth had developed the odd tendency to keep on falling open.
If to watch the inhabitants was like being in a circus audience, then to walk through the town was like an amusement ride. Paths wove high and low, crossing over mechanical bridges or ducking under forks of electric blue flame. It was an exhilarating, though sometimes scary, journey, and Oscar revelled in it. Vergil however, appeared frustrated. The crooked buildings and winding roads made it deceptive as to where any path might lead, so that they often began walking through an arch way low down on the ground only to end up on a parapet high in the air. The only way to avoid it was for the rat to continually disappear in puffs of mist to check and calibrate his sense of direction. Oscar followed along, gawking at every small detail and constantly asking questions. Vergil could barely decline to answer before a new one was put forward.
To Oscar it was marvellous: not only the location and its inhabitants, but also the way in which they interacted. Souls would change their persona over the course of their interactions with one another. One moment a gruff looking bear would stalk along growling and then the next moment it would appear as docile as a kitten, purely by encountering the right Itse. On another occasion a walking drum tapped out a spontaneous beat after passing a friendly little bird tied to a balloon.
It was also odd, though Vergil offered no elaboration in response to Oscar’s queries, as how the world interacted with the Itse. For example Oscar watched the same yellow chick floating on its balloon toward a darkened archway. Upon its approach, black, grabbing hands reached out at the tiny bird from the shadows of the building. As the chick recoiled in a frightened panic, the balloon burst, propelling it away from the threat. Out of reach, the balloon miraculously repaired and re-inflated, carrying the chick on its way. It was as though the archway itself had a life, Oscar reflected, and it was responding to those Itse nearby.
Having journeyed through the town for some time, Oscar became acutely aware that most of the Itse barely acknowledged his presence. For the most part they would stride through him, forcing him to step aside; or they would give him a wide berth, as though he were somehow tainted. Either way, it seemed he could not communicate with them. Nothing he did or said to get their attention worked and most would gaze right past him. But on reflection Oscar supposed this should not have come as a surprise to him. After all, Vergil had explained that communication between a soul and mind was limited. Indeed, the rodent took the opportunity to remind him of this whilst gesturing at the assortment of Itse passing by.
“Look Oscar.” The rat said, less frustrated now he had found a relatively straight path.
“Actions are limited to their respective worlds: in Singeard the interaction is body to body - or rather - mind to mind. In Etiainheim however it is soul to soul. Rarely, if ever, do the Itse here meet a mind. The only time it happens is after death, when the soul and mind of a particular individual will meet, to merge and depart together.
“In your case, Oscar…” Vergil continued, “Your living mind has been brought here before its time, which is likely to have an even more disruptive effect. No wonder the Itse seem reluctant to interact with you - they can sense the unnatural occurrence and will steer well clear. It is only their own mind they are drawn to”.
“Hang on, though. Not everything ignores me. How come the cat plays with me? She even sleeps on my lap. And what about those vulture birds? They tried to claw me to pieces.” Oscar said.
“Quite true. It is an interesting topic, one I'm sure no cognitive mind will ever come to truly understand. But you must remember that souls have personalities too, some will be brave, others shy, a lot will avoid the unusual. Maybe, the cat and birds
see your mind and recognise it for the Itse it belongs to, even if that is missing at present”.
“Missing at present?” Oscar digested the meaning. The rat’s words had hit him hard and he wondered why it had taken him so long to ask what now seemed like the obvious and most important question.
“Vergil?” he paused, waiting for the rat to look at him. “Where is my soul?”
The rat shrank a little and avoided the boy’s eyes.
“I'm sorry Oscar, I don't know.” He ushered the boy over to a tall block of twisted houses, leading him to an alcove underneath a stairwell. “You see Oscar, over the years; I have dabbled in Singeard animating fresh corpses so as to explore the physical realm. But it is difficult to identify minds in relation to their souls and it takes time to watch a human and get to know them well enough to find their Itse.
“You may not have noticed” Vergil continued. “But distances in Etiainheim are not quite the same as in your world. It isn’t just a case of looking in the equivalent place to where the mind happens to be. Minds can stray – and hearts, or souls perhaps more so. Souls are more vulnerable. They can be easily led or damaged by others. Surely you’ve seen that by now in the way the other Itse allow themselves to be led by the Maere?”
“You mean, mine is likely to be with Edmund’s Maere, with the other children?” Oscar concluded, more anxious now that he was before.
“Well, no.” Answered Vergil. “At least, not necessarily. In the time before Edmund’s soul had degraded to its blackened state, I once saw a soul which seemed to stray. It was a grey, shadow of a thing and I watched as it disengaged from all around it. It would linger on the outside of the Institute, until one day it slipped away. It appeared to be headed this way – at least, I never saw it return. It could be yours, perhaps, for I watched in Singeard too as you pushed away those who got too close. Anyway, if it was yours, well, maybe it is somewhere close.” He saw the boy’s face lighten. “But be careful Oscar, I don't know what happens to a mind and soul if they meet before their time, I would be reticent to go in search of it if I were you.”
Oscar mused on the point. Despite Vergil’s ominous sounding warning he secretly wished to go in search of his own soul. But after a moment's reflection he looked around in surprise. His feline companion had vanished. He had remembered walking into town with her at his side but he could not remember seeing her since, the awe of the town had distracted his attention. Stepping back out onto the cobbled street, he looked in both directions but the host of varying forms made it dizzying to pick out her small orange form.
“Vergil, the cat...” Memories and emotions swirled about, slowly dropping into place. “I think...Josie from the Institute...Josie has gone!” The penny had dropped for Oscar and knowing it was the naïve and vulnerable girl from the Institute made him panic. “We must find her. What if something happens?”
“Josie.” Vergil mulled the name over then snapped to. “Do not fret Oscar, we will find her.” Yet despite the assurance the rat did not look convinced.
“But what about the Maere – Edmund - what if he finds her first?” Oscar said desperately but this time the rat did not even reply.
Hurrying now, they continued into town, soon becoming caught up in the maze of back alleys, bridges and stairwells. They paused as they stood on a raised street hanging from t
he buildings like a balcony and looked out across the southern part of the town. Oscar soon came to notice that the bustling metropolis was becoming quieter. The myriad soul forms occupying the street was dwindling rapidly as the Itse retired within the dwellings or in some cases withdrew to darkened holes. Slowly the sun was easing itself out of the sky and towards the earth. The two companions could see that darkness was fast approaching.
“We don't have long until night.” Vergil began, but before he could comment further a howl reverberated across the street where they stood – a little too close for comfort. Shortly it was answered by a cacophony of other howls echoing from varying spots of the city.
“The wardens.” Vergil whispered. “I think that is what you call them – yes? They patrol the streets at night, looking for trouble. It would be wise for us to avoid them. They are irritable at the best of times and I fear they will not take kindly to your being here.”
The two picked up their pace, now hurrying to get through the winding town before nightfall. As they moved the amber sun set and the sky turned from a streaked gold and scarlet to a smoky black. The steam and smog blocked the cosmos overhead yet blue sparks continued to draw a web through the fogged blanket. A chill crept through the town so that what had once seemed a riot of colour, teeming with life had now taken on a colder, lonely tinge. The two found themselves creeping through dimly lit streets encountering only the occasional coloured orb bobbing along its way, or a blurry figure in the distance which would vanish into the depths of a building to the warmth of the dens within.
As the two rounded the next corner they caught a faint glimpse of another blurry something passing through a misty cloud at the end of the road. This time they both ground to a halt. Though difficult to make out in detail, Oscar could see it was a large animal, moving stealthily on four legs and seemingly sniffing at the air. In a moment Vergil had appeared on Oscar's shoulder and whispered in his ear